


Hogwart's Halloween Feast and Festival

by somuchcloser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchcloser/pseuds/somuchcloser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione is back at Hogwarts to finish her schooling. She's been selected Head Girl, and she wants to make a good impression at the Halloween Feast and Festival. When she shows up in a familiar costume, she gets a very interesting sort of attention from a certain Slytherin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hogwart's Halloween Feast and Festival

It was October 30th, and the air was cold and crisp. Hermione wrapped her arms tightly about herself as she ascended the long stairway to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady guarding the entrance appeared to be snoozing; Hermione cleared her voice quietly, hoping to wake the woman in the portrait. When the lady continued to sleep, Hermione cleared her throat loudly, adding a cough for good measure. The Fat Lady awoke with a rather impressive snort. She opened one eye, glaring at the curly-haired Gryffindor. "Password?"

"Hungarian Horntail." The portrait swung open, the Fat Lady already asleep again. Hermione made her way into the Gryffindor common room, smiling at the familiar sight. She glanced around, and then spotted her friends. Harry and Ginny were seated on a nearby loveseat, happily snogging away.

"Ahem." No answer. "AHEM." The two Gryffindors broke apart with a start. Harry's face turned a vibrant shade of red, while Ginny just smiled.

"Ah, Hermione. Didn't see you there, sorry."

"It's okay Harry, you seemed to be rather... preoccupied." She winked at Ginny, and the red-head gave her a devilish grin in return. "I wanted to talk to both of you about the Halloween party tomorrow. Most of the details have been worked out, but I was wondering if I could get you both to do me a favor. Since this is the first year we're having not only a Halloween feast but a dance as well, I'm afraid some of the students will be a bit... hesitant to hit the dance floor. It's never easy to be one of the first couples out there, and since I'm not going with anyone... well I had hoped that I could convince you two to be one of the first brave couples. Please? This is one of my first big projects as Head Girl, and I just want it to go smoothly. Can I count on you?" She looked pleadingly at Harry; he was the one she really had to convince.

Ginny tossed her long red hair over a shoulder, placing her hand on Harry's thigh. "Of course we'll help you out, won't we Harry?" She gave him her most devastatingly come-hither look, and all of Harry's free will seemed to disappear into thin air. "Sure, Gin, whatever you say."

Hermione sneaked another quick wink at her friend; Ginny Weasley had Harry Potter wrapped around her little finger and she knew it. Luckily she only used her powers for good; well, that, and getting the last piece of dessert at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione thanked her friends once more, and turned to leave the room when she heard Ginny speaking. "Hermione! You never did tell me which costume you chose for tomorrow. Which idea was the winner?"

Hermione smiled. "Neither, actually. I came up with another idea, but it's a surprise. Let's just say I hope to get a reaction."

Ginny shot her a scandalous grin. "Ah, so it's slutty, isn't it?"

"Ginevra Weasley, would I do such a thing? At school? As Head Girl?" She laughed aloud at the thought; her, dressing scandalous as a school function? There was no way.

"Fine, fine, keep your secret. But I'd appreciated your help getting ready tomorrow. The party starts at eight; do you think I could drop by your room at about half six?"

Hermione nodded her head, "Yes, that should be fine. We're setting up in the morning, so I don't need to be on duty until seven forty-five. Ohhh, I'll see if I can sneak some sweets up to the room, we'll have a pre-party snack."

Harry piped up at the mention of sweets. "Can I come along as well?"

"No." Both girls answered in unison, and the Boy Who Lived sulked back in his seat on the couch. "Bloody witches and their girl time; it's moments like this that I wish Ron was here."

Hermione laughed, "You two will be in Auror training soon enough, and you can eat as many sweets as you want then. See you both tomorrow."

The couple waved goodbye and were back to snogging before Hermione could exit the portrait hole.

* * *

As Hermione made her way through the crowded halls of Hogwarts, she reflected back on the past year. It had been over four months since Voldemort had been defeated, and the wizarding world had certainly changed for the better. The destroyed parts of the castle had been rebuilt over the summer, and although there were still some hallways that were off-limits, the remaining damage was minimal. All students had been notified that they would need to repeat the last school year, as Hogwarts under Death Eater rule was not exactly a place of learning, save for some very nasty magic. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were given the opportunity to graduate without completing their seventh year. The Ministry had decided that a year of hunting horcruxes and escaping Death Eaters was a decent enough education in itself; plus, there was the whole killing Voldemort thing. Ron had jumped at the chance to escape school, repeatedly thanking Merlin that he didn't have to take Potions ever again. Harry had wanted to be done with Hogwarts as well, but after speaking to Hermione, he decided he needed a bit more practice at both Charms and Transfiguration. His sixth year had been a busy one indeed, and he wasn't fully confident in his abilities in either subject. The Auror program insisted upon excellence in both subjects, and he wanted to be prepared. Ron didn't seem to share the same concern.

Hermione and Ron had kissed during the Battle of Hogwarts, and had dated for awhile during the summer that followed. When August rolled around, both began to feel the pressure of the relationship. Molly Weasley had mentioned marriage many, many times, and both Hermione and Ron had expressed that they just weren't ready for that sort of commitment, especially at eighteen. They had decided to go back to being just friends, and agreed to leave the door open for a relationship in the future. The last Hermione had heard, Ron was casually seeing a Ravenclaw who had been a year ahead of them in school. She was happy for her friend, although she still felt a twinge of jealously when she thought too hard about another girl kissing the red-haired boy.

Hermione had been extremely excited when she had received not only the book list for her last year in school, but a badge that proclaimed her Head Girl. She had dreamed of being Head Girl for so long, and she was only a little bit disappointed to find out that Harry was not selected Head Boy. She was surprised, in fact, to find out that the Head Boy was none other than Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin.

Blaise and his family had remained neutral during the war, and although he had never gone out of his way to mock Hermione, she was initially wary of the boy, and understandably so. After sharing a common room with him for almost two months, however, she found him to be a nice young man, if aloof and occasionally a bit stuck up. Even so, he had opened up more over the last few weeks; she could tell she was growing on him.

As she reached their shared common room, she spoke the password ("Unity"), and stepped inside. The place was relatively small and cozy. It was decorated in neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin house colors, but in calming blues, grays and creams. Hermione sat down on the couch and reached for the homework she had left on the coffee table earlier in the day.

After reading for the better part of an hour, she rubbed her eyes and stretched. She didn't really need to worry about her schoolwork; she was already a few weeks ahead of the class, but preparation was something that came naturally to the girl. She walked over to the small kitchenette attached to the common room and set about making herself a cup of tea. She didn't notice when the door to the common room opened and closed, nor did she notice the sound of footsteps approaching her.

"Making tea, Granger? Is there enough hot water for me as well?"

The curly-haired girl jumped, muffling a scream. "Gods, Blaise, you scared the hell out of me! I've told you again and again, don't sneak up on me like that!"

The tall, dark wizard raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I wasn't sneaking, Granger; I think you're just hard of hearing. Sort of surprising for a member of the Order of the Phoenix, though."

"Ha ha, yes, well..." Blaise was right; just months ago, no one would be able to approach her without her notice. "The war is over and my defenses are back to normal, I suppose. What sort of tea will you have?"

"You don't have to fix me a cup, I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself, Hermione."

"Oh it's no bother. Have you decided on a costume? Remember, we have to be there fifteen minutes before the feast; we're to announce the event, make it official and all of that.

"Earl Grey, please. And yes, I have decided on a costume, and yes, I remember. I've decided to be a vampire, but not the evil suck-your-blood-til-you-die kind. More of the only slighty evil, suck-your-blood-til-you-sigh kind." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She sniggered. "Gods, the girls will love that."

He smirked once more, his brown eyes dancing. "Yes, Granger, that's the idea."

"Okay, promise me this; if you bring someone back here, just don't do anything on the couch, Zabini. I do my homework there."

"Yes, Princess, I know."

"And don't call me that."

"But you're the Gryffindor Princess! I'm just giving you the respect you deserve, your Majesty." He bowed low.

She pouted at the boy. "Blaise, I'm serious. I don't like that."

"Fine, fine, have it your way. I won't call you Princess, at least not to your face, and I won't have sex on the couch. Again."

She gasped, stomping her foot in frustration. "Blaise! Merlin, you are impossible."

"I know, Granger. I know." He grabbed the cup of tea from her hands and went off to his room.

* * *

It was the afternoon of October 31st, and Hermione was exhausted. She had spent all morning decorating the Great Hall, wanting it to look no less than spectacular for the evening's festivities. She had charmed the floating candles to flicker in time to the night's prepared music, and had set up jack-o-lanterns and fairy lights around the room. Gone were the long tables in the Hall; tonight they had been replaced by smaller, circular tables scattered throughout the room. Each table was set with a lovely centerpiece, complete with candles, fall leaves, and plenty of sweets. She would be sitting next to Harry and Ginny, as well as a few other Gryffindors and their dates. She had considered asking Neville, Dean, or Seamus to accompany her to the dance (just as friends, of course), but she knew they all fancied other girls, and she didn't want to deny them a romantic evening. She figured she'd sit with her friends, steal a few dances with some of the boys, and enjoy the night for what it was: a break from the realities of studies and N.E.W.T. preparation.

It was half three, so she knew she had enough time for a quick cat nap. Hermione tore off her robes and stripped down to a t-shirt and knickers. Climbing into bed felt like heaven after the morning she had endured, and she charmed her wand to wake her at five o'clock. Once she had located Crookshanks and dragged her disgruntled pet into bed with her, she closed her eyes and drifted off into dreamland.

* * *

Five o'clock came much too quickly, and Hermione quickly silenced the noise sounding from her wand. She stumbled to the door, still half-unconscious. She was standing in the common room with her hand on the bathroom door when she heard the whistling.

"Well Granger, I didn't realize you were such an exhibitionist."

"Bloody hell," she whispered, closing her eyes. The language she picked up from Ron, but this embarrassment she was feeling? It was all hers.

Slowly she turned around, not wanting to face the one person she really didn't want to deal with in this half-conscious, half-dressed condition. Too late.

"Hello, ferret. Lovely to see you, as always."

Draco Malfoy smirked at her, taking his time to look up and down her body. She pulled her shirt lower to cover her knickers a bit, but all that did was stretch the top tighter across her chest. "So you and Blaise, are you...?" He was drawling in that self-assured way he so loved; she hated it when he drawled.

"Are we what, Malfoy?"

"Are you... this close?" He gestured to her panties, the smirk still plastered onto his face.

"If you are insinuating that Blaise Zabini and I are currently or ever have been intimate, then no, we are not that close. You don't have to worry, Malfoy, I'm not tainting your poor pureblood friend. We've just gotten used to living with one another, so neither of us is all that concerned about seeing the other in their underwear. And anyways, this covers more than a bathing suit, so please, do shut up." She glared at the platinum-haired boy; he certainly had a way of getting under her skin.

"Hmmm, the lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Quoting Muggle authors now, eh, Malfoy?"

He shrugged, his face a mask. "I can read whatever I want, can't I?"

Hermione tilted her head, studying the boy. He was very, very different this year. He and his family had defected during the last battle, but that didn't excuse all the things they had done previously. Lucius Malfoy was currently in Azkaban, and his initial sentence was set for twenty years. Seeing as he had never killed anyone (at least as far as the Ministry could prove), there was a fair chance he'd be released early on account of good behavior. Hermione had read a bit about Narcissa Malfoy in the Daily Prophet; it seemed she had completely withdrawn from society following the war. The Malfoy name carried very little of the authority it once had, and it seemed Narcissa and Draco were being careful not to sully it further. Draco himself had been very quiet this year, only speaking up in class when he was called on. Blaise was one of his best friends, but Hermione had only seen Malfoy in the Head common room twice this year. He was certainly keeping to himself; she hadn't even seen him harass any first years! She almost missed his usual behavior; when he was acting like a git, she knew how to handle him. This new Malfoy confused her.

"Yes, Malfoy, you can read whatever you want. I'm going to take a shower now and get ready for tonight. So, as lovely as it's been talking to you while standing around in my underwear... goodbye." She walked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly shut without giving him a chance to respond.

* * *

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice sounded through the common room. It was 6:12, and Hermione had been expecting Ginny any moment.

"In here, Gin." Ginny opened the door to Hermione's room, gasping when she saw the older girl. "Ohhhh my freaking gods, Hermione, that's bloody brilliant. Merlin, I wish I had a camera."

Hermione turned to her friend with a sneer. "Is it good enough, you filthy blood traitor?"

Ginny laughed long and hard. "Ohhhh yes, it's good enough."

Hermione smiled and clapped her hands together, jumping up and down. "Good! I know it's a bit of a dicey costume, but it was just too good an idea to pass up. Plus, I knew it would get a definite reaction."

"There will certainly be a reaction, yes."

Hermione was wearing a pair of tight black pants topped with a black button-up shirt. The top three buttons were undone, and the shirt revealed just enough to show that she had definitely blossomed over the last year or two. Around her neck hung a loosely knotted green-striped tie, and she had glamoured her hair to appear shorter and white-blond. She had been in the middle of slicking it back when Ginny entered the room. "I'm Draco sodding Malfoy. Do you like it?"

"I LOVE it. He's going to be SO pissed, I can't wait! Ohhhh, wait until Harry sees." The girls laughed in a way that could definitely be described as maniacal; this was just too good.

"What do you think, with or without the black blazer?" Hermione gestured to the bed, where the dark jacket lay.

"Hmmmm, I dunno. Here, put it on." Hermione slipped on the garment and turned around so Ginny could give her a good once-over.

"Well, I like how the dress shirt is tight; it shows off your curves. However, the blazer is definitely more Malfoy-y. And yes, that's a word."

"Do you think you can charm the jacket to be a bit snugger, Gin?"

The taller girl nodded. "Yeah, definitely! I think that will help. Stand still." She concentrated on the look she was hoping to capture and flicked her wand. Hermione stood by the mirror to witness the transformation. "Ohh, perfect, Ginny, thank you!"

"No problem. Now, I need a little help with my costume. It's the fin, I can't decide how to wear it so I don't fall when I walk." She held out a long fabric fishtail and pouted.

"Ginny, are you a witch or not? Charm it to look like a fish tail but to fit like a pair of denims."

Ginny snorted at the reply. "Bugger, that was pretty obvious, wasn't it?"

Hermione smiled at her friend. "Here, Gin, you get in it and I'll charm it to fit like a glove, okay?" The ginger-haired girl complied, and within a minute, Ginny was able to walk AND dance in her costume. Hermione marveled at the other girl's costume; there was an innate sexiness about Ginny that Hermione couldn't find in herself. Ginny was just so confident, so self-assured. She had recently taken to wearing her long, red hair in loose waves, and her ability to apply makeup in a way that enhanced her natural features had always made Hermione envious.

"Gin, think you can do my makeup for me? Nothing crazy, though," she warned.

"Of course! Here, sit down. I think we'll use juuuust a touch of green eyeshadow to line your eyes. Add a bit of mascara and bam!, you're done."

Within minutes the girls were ready, although Ginny kept fussing with the both of them. "Hermione, are you sure you don't want to unbutton just one more button? Because I can guarantee, one more button will make you very popular tonight." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Hermione was reminded her Slytherin suite-mate.

"If I unbutton another button, you'll be able to see almost all of my bra, and I'm not willing to look like a slag." The redhead shook her long mane, but relented. "Fine, fine. At least tell me you're wearing a green bra."

Hermione huffed. "Why of course, I AM a Slytherin tonight."

"Good girl. I can't wait to see Malfoy's face when he sees you. He's going to go mental."

Hermione remembered the faces she had been practicing in front of the mirror while waiting for Ginny. She had the Malfoy sneer down pat, that was for sure. She attempted the Malfoy smirk, and looked at Ginny. "Oh, yes, he definitely will."

"You've got him down pat, Hermione. Merlin, this is going to be good."

* * *

It was an hour later that the two girls emerged for Hermione's room. The Head Boy was facing away from them, fixing himself a cup of tea. He turned around to greet the two girls when he noticed the Head Girl's outfit. He dropped the cup of tea, and the porcelain shattered, skidding across the floor.

"Oh. My. Gods." His eyes traveled up and down the witch in front of him. "Hermione, Draco is going to freak out when he sees you."

She laughed at his reaction; if she got this from one of Malfoy's best mates, how would the Slytherin Prince himself respond?

"Think he'll be pissed?"

Blaise cleared his throat. "Ah, he'll be... something," he mutter vaguely.

"I like your costume, Zabini," said Hermione. Blaise was wearing a pair of tight black dragon-skin pants with black boots. He was also wearing a very tight white t-shirt that stretched across his chest in a way that was decidedly attractive. Twin fangs protruded from his mouth, and a trickle of fake blood (she hoped) fell from his lips.

"Of course you do, Granger. I look bloody hot."

Ginny murmured a hearty agreement and winked. Hermione smacked her friend. "Ginny! What would Harry think?"

"Hopefully he'd think about getting an outfit like that!"

Blaise laughed, his deep voice sensual and smooth. "Okay ladies, it's time for the Head Girl and Boy to make their way to the Great Hall. You coming Weasley?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I'm meeting up with Harry and walking with him. But Blaise? Save me a dance." With a coy smile and a flick of her hips, Ginny left the room.

Blaise smiled, adoring the attention, ever if the witch in question was spoken for. "She's trouble, that one."

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, I know

* * *

At exactly seven o'clock the doors to the Great Hall opened, and the students began to pile in. Hermione and Blaise stood in a small room just off of the Hall, waiting for everyone to settle down. At 7:15, when everyone was seated, they entered the room and walked to the center of the podium.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Hermione glanced at Blaise and smiled. Neither knew who the gasp was for, but it felt good either way. Hermione cleared her throat to speak, casting a Sonorus charm to amplify her voice.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts Halloween Feast and Festival! We will begin tonight with dinner, then move straight to dessert. Apple cider will be served once everyone's had their sweets, and then we'll start the dancing. I hope you all have a lovely evening! Enjoy!"

Blaise amplified his voice as well. "I know this is the first dance we've had since the Yule Ball four years ago, but I assume you all remember how to dance? Good. I want to see that floor packed! And ladies, my dance card is free." He winked and licked his lips suggestively. "Happy friggin' Halloween!"

The students roared in approval, and plate upon plate of delicious food appeared at each table. Hermione made her way towards her friends but was stopped when a solid chest appear in front of her out of seemingly nowhere; she had to stop suddenly as to not run into the person.

Draco Malfoy stared down at her, his permanent sneer prominent on his lips. "Think this is funny, do you Granger? Think it's a laugh?"

Hermione looked up at the blonde boy, unwilling to show weakness. "Yes, Malfoy, I do. I know, I know, 'blah blah blah filthy Mudblood blah blah blah not fit to dress like a pureblood, blah blah blah.' I've heard it all before, ferret. Now move. People are watching."

Without waiting for his reply, she walked around him to sit at her table. Harry spoke first, "Bloody hell, Hermione, that's a brilliant costume! You should have seen Malfoy's face when you walked in, I've never seen him that red!"

Hermione smiled. "Good! I was getting a bit sick of this new and not-so-improved Malfoy. Before he was just a git, but now he's a quiet, sullen git. It's hard to know what to expect from him; at least with the old Malfoy, we all knew he was an ass."

Harry nodded his agreement, laughing. "Truer words were never spoke. But somehow I don't think that last altercation was the end of this."

* * *

Dinner had been excellent, and dessert was even better. The cider had just been served when the first song broke out in the Hall. Hermione looked at Ginny and Harry. "That's your cue, guys! Good luck, and have fun."

Ginny was extremely glad that Hermione had been the one to charm her mermaid tail. It was much easier to dance this way. She glanced down at her seashell bra; good, it was still in place. She knew it would be, of course; she had taped it with a special sort of Spellotape, and charmed it to stick for good measure. Harry, who was dressed as a knight, obviously approved, because he kept running his hands back and forth over Ginny's exposed midriff and back.

The two Gryffindors seemed to be enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and they were quickly joined by other students. Hermione had been walking around the perimeter of the room to check on the decorations when a hand reached out and yanked her into the small room off of the Great Hall. She was pushed hard against a wall when she heard the door slam shut. The lock clicked. She was trapped.

Draco Malfoy stood inches in front of Hermione, glaring down at her. The Gryffindor now noticed that he wore a pirate costume, and his hat was propped rakishly to the side. Judging from his body language (not to mention the fact that she was currently being held captive) Hermione had been right about his reaction; he was pissed.

"What exactly are you playing at, Granger?" He gripped her jacket tightly, forcing himself into her personal space. She stood tall, willing herself not to appear weak.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? Don't like my costume?" She looked up at him with mock-innocent eyes.

"No, no I do not. You look... I don't like it." He pushed her body into the wall again. His silvery eyes were dark with anger.

"I'm surprised! I thought you'd love it, Malfoy. You're so into yourself, this must be heaven!"

"You don't know a thing about me, Granger, got that?" He clenched his teeth tightly; Hermione worried for a moment that he might hit her.

"Oh, I know enough. I know that you've done your best to make my life miserable for seven years, but for some reason this year you're all quiet and withdrawn. Is it because your poor daddy's in jail?" Hermione knew she was stooping low, but she couldn't contain her words. Malfoy just GOT to her; he made her so angry! "On second thought, I don't really care about the reason. You're not fooling me, Malfoy, I still know who you are."

"Don't presume for a second to know anything about me or my family, you... you..." He shook his head, looking away from the now-blonde girl.

"Mudblood. You can say it Malfoy, you've said it over and over so many times the word should be second nature to you."

"I haven't said that word since the war, Granger, and I'm not going to suddenly start saying it now. You think you're so clever, you and your Gryffindor friends. You have no idea who I am or what I've been through! No idea at all. I have been trying all year to turn my life around, but it's never enough for your lot, is it? No matter how hard I try, I'll always be the Death Eater to you!" He turned away from her in disgust.

Well, now she felt bad. Hermione had always prided herself on tolerance and the belief in second chances. If Malfoy really was trying to change, she should give him the benefit of a doubt, right? Ashamed at her behavior, she searched for a response. She looked down at her feet; Merlin, why had she worn heels? These things were bloody awful.

"Malfoy... Look, I understand I upset you. And I'm sorry I haven't given you a second chance. I know a lot of things have changed since the war, and I... well, I guess I didn't realize you were one of those things. I guess it seemed easier to believe the worst about you. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

The blonde boy turned around slowly, and approached Hermione once more. His next words were quiet, barely audible. "I just wish that you had noticed how hard I've been trying."

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why does it matter what I think anyway? I'm still a Muggle-born, still a Gryffindor. It's not like we're friends, or like you should even care about what I think."

He was staring down at her again, his eyes still dark. She didn't see the anger in them now, however, and that frightened her even more than his earlier outburst. "It just matters, okay? Now change your sodding hair back, you look ridiculous." When she didn't react fast enough, he lifted the charm on his own. Cautiously his hand reached up to touch her curls. "That's better."

The air suddenly felt thick, and Hermione found it increasingly harder to breathe. "What are you doing, Malfoy?" His actions were totally out of character, and she wasn't sure what they meant.

"Just be quiet, Granger." His hand smoothed down her hair, moving to her face. Softly he stroked her jawline, stopping at her chin. He kept her gaze as his thumb traced across her bottom lip. She stopped breathing entirely.

"I just want a chance, Granger. I'm trying as hard as I can to be the sort of man a sort of woman like you could want. I know I've messed up my entire life, but I'm really trying. I don't know what else to do. I try to keep quiet so I don't offend you, but whenever I get the courage open my mouth and talk to you, all we seem to do is bicker and fight. If I keep to myself, you assume I'm plotting nefarious things. I've run out of ideas."

Merlin it was warm in this room; he was standing much too close, saying crazy, irrational things. Or at least they didn't seem rational to her. Draco Malfoy hated her; what was he doing?

Again he spoke. "It is so crazy to want someone like you, Hermione? Someone who is brave, and intelligent, and clever? Someone not afraid to speak her mind? Does it make me crazy, wanting you like this?"

The oxygen had definitely left the room. There was no other explanation. And now Draco Malfoy was coming closer and closer to her. She could feel his breath mingling with hers. He was much, much too close.

And then his lips met hers.

And now she was burning alive on the inside. Her lips moved against his on their own volition. All reason left her brain as he pushed against her. Without meaning to, her right hand snaked into his platinum locks, and she pulled him closer. His lips moved harder against hers, encouraged by her actions. His tongue licked across her lips and she opened her mouth without thinking. Tongues danced lightly over one another, and he was gripping her shoulders, pressing his pelvis into hers. She gasped and broke the kiss.

"What was that?"

He laughed, and it wasn't cynical this time. She had never heard Malfoy laugh like that before; it was magical. "That was me asking for a second chance with you, Hermione. I understand if you can't do that; just tell me and I'll leave right now. I'll pretend this never happened, and I'll never bother you again. But I had to try."

She thought for a moment, looking him over from head to toe. He really had changed, hadn't he? Such, he was still a snarky git, but he was trying. And damn, but he looked good in that outfit. His shirt was very form-fitting, but she was still far too curious to know what lay beneath such a garment. He was Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater, and a (previous?) racist. But that kiss... it had been electrifying! And anyways, people could change, couldn't they? Didn't he deserve a fresh start? She had never been kissed like that, and she wanted to try it again.

"Listen Malfoy, if you think for one moment that I'm going to just try and forget the past, and give you another chance, after all you've done... Well, I guess you'd be right. Now get over here."

He smiled, a real smile, and it stretched all the way to his eyes, adding sparkle to the silver found there. "Yes, Princess." He grabbed at her tie and pulled her closer, moving his mouth to speak directly into her ear. "And Granger? I lied. I LOVE the costume."


End file.
